Cool Kids Don't Cry
by sunflower7000
Summary: Con Air is officially the worst movie ever, or at least through Dave's shades it is. But his best-bro/boyfriend John is determined that even cool kids like Dave can show feelings. And maybe he's right. Or maybe Dave just has something in his eye. Oneshot. Dave/John fluff.


_**A/N: So this probably sucks. I've never written for these guys before, so I probably failed. This was just a little something I wrote for romantic inspiration for my other story, as a gift for a friend (who happens to be making me a scalemate). So yeah, for Karkass. You know who you are. :]]]]]]]**_

"Oh my God. I seriously hope you're crying in an ironic sense right now. This movie isn't exactly sob-worthy dude." Dave said, raising an eyebrow at his best bro.

John was currently using the back of his hand to wipe his now watering eyes as they both sat on the couch. He let a small sniffle escape before turning to face Dave.

"Shuddup. You know it's almost my favorite part." He said, returning to the burly looking man holding a stuffed bunny being displayed on the TV screen. Dave felt his eyes roll underneath his shades as some sort of lame music began playing, causing his younger friend to burst into tears. Dave tossed another piece of popcorn into his mouth, gazing at the film with a bored expression.

"Seriously John. It's not even that great of a movie. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that it's downright cheesy. And not even in a cool hipster way."

John pouted at him.

"Come on Dave. You simply don't recognize the artistic genius that is Nic Cage." He stated, but grew quiet when a voice could be heard over the music.

"How do I, get through one night without you? If I had to live-"

"You're not honestly singing right now, right? Come on dude-"

"-without you, what kind of life would that be?"

"John. Stop. You sound ridiculous."

"OH I NEED YOU I NEED YOU IN MY ARMS-!"

"God. Kill me now. Just. Kill. Me. Now."

He wouldn't stop. John's derpy voice continued to belt out off-key notes until the song was over and Nic Cage had lovingly reunited with his family. Dave was thoroughly disgusted. John dried what was left of the water on his cheeks and as the credits rolled he leaned into the boy beside him.

"You're heartless Dave. Con Air is one of the most emotionally riveting movies ever. I just don't understand how you manage to hold back your tears!"

That's because there are no tears, Egbert. Cool kids don't cry. Especially not over crap like this."

"But Daveeeeeeee! The symbolism of the stuffed rabbit, Casey's endearing expression, even Nic Cages hair! It's just so beautiful, it's impossible not to let the waves of feelings hit you."

"I've been told I break the impossible. It's all a part of being a Strider. Someday I'll teach you our ways of awesomeness, but not until you outgrow the Nic Cage movies."

"I bet you're internally sobbing your eyes out, Dave. You just hide it behind those sunglasses and cool-kid smirk." John huffed.

"Whatever you wanna think, Egderp." Dave replied, stoic expression still unchanged.

John frowned at him, then proceeded to reach over and grab his shades.

"Hey! What the fuck John!" Dave yelled, attempting to hold the tinted glasses to his face.

John took advantage of his instinctive eye-defenses to pull himself on top of the other boy, all while still attempting to win his shades. Dave, meanwhile, was attempting to bury his face in the couch while his friend tried to rake the sunglasses of his face. Yes, it was certainly (b)romance at its finest.

"TRIUMPH!" John shouted as he held his new trophy above his head.

"Not cool bro. NOT. COOL." Dave said with an agitated tone, hands now plastered over his face.

"Dude. Covering your eyes with your hands makes you look even stupider than wearing sunglasses indoors at night."

"Shut up. I don't like people to see my eyes okay?"

"It's only me! And I already know what they look like so you don't have to worry."

Dave scowled and removed his hands, clearly revealing his bright red irises.

"See it's not that bad! I told you-" John stopped short, a goofy smile spreading over his features.

"Dave? Do I see water in your eyes?"

"Dream on John. We just had a one-sided discussion on how horrible that movie was, remember?"

"Nope. I'm pretty sure I see a few tears there..." His smile spread into a sneer.

"You were crying at that ending part, weren't you!"

"W-what? No way!"

"Oh no! You can't cover for yourself now! You were swooning over Nick Cage with the rest of us!"

"Fuck you."

"Dave cried over Con Air! Dave cried over Con Air!" John chanted as Dave grabbed his shades back.

He put them on quickly and crossed his arms over his chest; an embarrassed blush coming over his cheeks.

"Fine. So that last part with the bunny was kind of emotional. But I'm cool enough to pull off crying without looking like a dork, so it's okay."

"I thought you said cool kids never, ever, ever, cry though! You wouldn't have been lying to me, right Dave?" John said, leaning close to his friend with an expression of mock hurt.

Dave mumbled a few swears under his breath before John kissed him gently on the lips. His earlier blush deepened.

"Ugh. You're absolutely impossible to deal with, you know that?"

John simply laughed, and kissed him again.

"Wait a minute. I hope you understand that under no circumstance are you to let my circumstantial, unintentional moment of barely watery eyes out to anyone else but us, okay?"

John sighed.

"Dave, are you going to kiss me or not?"

"You haven't answered my question."

"You haven't answered mine."


End file.
